We talked of wild dogs and man,
all varieties, the human kind that paw
at women’s breast
and drools at fresh meat.
We talked of life and death,
agreed both were hard,
but living left little hope
death was worth living for
so evermore is nevermore
we agreed.
We talked of shit and shit bags.
Of love and hate, how the two
run a straight line
and can interchange
in the blink of a crying eye.
We talked and we talked
and we agreed
pawing dogs aren’t all bad
if they are house broken.
9-14-2005
We Talked
We Talked
[img]http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a97/iblieve/9e35dd63.gif[/img]
iblieve
DARC Poet's Society.
iblieve
DARC Poet's Society.
made friends with the wild dogs
an old story from long ago
when woods and villiages were home to scattered
woodland dwellers and their new friends,
the wild dogs
not yet housebroken yet
strangely protective and loyal
they did not attack the forest dwellers, feasted off the bounty of the forest dwellers' hunts.
an old story from long ago
when woods and villiages were home to scattered
woodland dwellers and their new friends,
the wild dogs
not yet housebroken yet
strangely protective and loyal
they did not attack the forest dwellers, feasted off the bounty of the forest dwellers' hunts.
[color=darkcyan]i'm on a survival mission
yo ho ho an a bottle of rum om[/color]
yo ho ho an a bottle of rum om[/color]
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